Plain & Simple
by Voyfan2
Summary: A J/P take on "Future's End." Henry Starling's move leaves Tom and Kathryn stranded. While they wait for Voyager to rescue them, they have an adventure of their own.
1. Chapter 1

_ As usual, Kathryn, Tom and anything Voyager belong to ... CBS? Viacom? All the other characters are mine. No infringement intended: Just using them to tell a story._

xxx

"Uff!" Tom groaned as he hit the ground. The landing was hard … way too hard. Then again, he'd been in motion when the beam took him. He quickly checked himself; nothing broken.

A figure in white lay a few feet from him. As he made his way over, his captain rolled onto her back and put her hand over her eyes.

"Captain?" he asked hesitantly. "I'm all right … I think," she said as she slowly sat up. "What the hell was _that_?"

All he knew that Henry Starling was the bastard responsible for this predicament. They'd been attacked by Captain Braxton, a timeship pilot who accused Voyager of basically blowing up the future, then pulled into the late 20th century.

They'd tracked Braxton's ship to Los Angeles, eventually discovering that Starling had appropriated it, and was planning on taking it into the future. He and the Captain had confronted Starling … they were about to subdue him … only to find out too late that he had a transporter.

"Voyager to Janeway ..." Chakotay's voice sounded strained. "Our sensors show that you and Tom have changed location. Are you all right?"

"We seem to be. Starling has a transporter … he literally dumped us … somewhere."

"You're in Iowa, Captain," Harry's voice broke in.

She stifled a groan. "Where?"

"It's in the Midwest portion of the North American continent."

The Captain didn't bother to hide her annoyance. "Where_ in _Iowa, Harry?" Tom winced. Of all people to instruct in Midwest geography ….

There was a pause. "About a kilometer outside the city of Kolona. Seems to be a travel attraction on the east side of the state."

"Glad to hear it," she muttered. "Beam us up, please."

"We can't," Chakotay said. "The long-range transporters are still malfunctioning. And according to the transmissions, that sighting of us put the military on alert. We can't risk a low orbit."

She pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. "You're right; we don't want to tangle with Air Defense." She sighed. "How quickly can we get back to Los Angeles?"

"Using current transportation, 28 hours by motor vehicle, 5 hours by air. The nearest major airport is about an hour away by vehicle," Harry said. "Checking flight schedules … sorry, Captain, there's two flights out a day. You've missed both of them."

"Plus, we'd need transportation in LA," Tom murmured.

"Sounds like our best option is to stay put," she said resignedly. "Keep an eye on Starling; if he starts to move, we'll _have_ to risk a low orbit. Meanwhile, Tom and I will find a place to lay low. Janeway out."

"By the way, Captain," Tom said gently. "It's Air Force."

She raised one eyebrow. _"Red alert," he thought. _ "In this time, it's not Air Defense, it's Air Force. Army, Navy, Marines and Air Force."

He could see her jaw working. "Thank you. I'll watch that." She looked around. "Feel like a little walk to town?"

Tom nodded. "Oh, hey, how much money do you have? I have about $125."

Kathryn rifled through her purse. "About $300, if I have the denominations right. And this credit-card thing."

They set off. "So, what do you know about 20th-century Amish?" she asked.

_Amish?_ "Not much," he admitted. "I've read it's mostly a farming community … they didn't dress in modern clothes and they didn't use things connected to the public power grid. Why?"

"If memory serves, this is an Amish community. Lots of businesses that attract tourists. We'll likely see horse-drawn buggies; they don't drive cars."

"You seem to know a lot about them."

"There are … or is that will be? … a few settlements around the Midwest in our time. Maybe elsewhere," she said, shrugging. "I remember that this one survived, and there's a large one in Northeast Indiana that draws tourists. My mother took us there a few times; she's fascinated by their way of life." She chuckled. "Not what you'd expect from a mathematician."

Tom smiled at the thought of Kathryn Janeway touring an Amish settlement. "Why do I think you weren't impressed?"

She laughed. "My family is traditionalist, and I struggled to understand _that_. Those folks made my mother look ultra-progressive. I can respect their faith, but I prefer to use the technology that makes life easier."

"Maybe it's not about an easy life," he said.


	2. Chapter 2

The main drag was crowded with tourists, cars and buggies. "We should blend in pretty well," Tom remarked. "Find a hotel and become tourists."

"Uh, huh," she murmured. She'd noticed the clothes in a store window. "I might blend better with something less grass-stained," she said looking down at her white pants. She looked back at him as she opened the door. "I'm buying, if you'd like to get a few things. I suggest a jacket: It will get chilly at night." Tom took the hint and followed her in.

He waited as she changed in the store's restroom and blinked in amazement when she came out. She was wearing a soft green T-shirt paired with dark blue denim pants and jacket, plus dark blue canvas loafers. Without her usual heeled boots, he realized just how small she was.

She was frowning at him. "Problem?"

"Not at all," he said. "I just don't see you in casual clothes often. You look very nice."

That brought a small grin. "Well, thank you. You look nice, too," she said, gently tugging the knit shirt he'd just bought. It was a light blue … more conservative than he'd like … but Southern California this wasn't.

"There's an inn across the street," Tom said, "let's see if they have a room."

Fifteen minutes later they were back on the street. "Leave it to us to get stranded during a festival week. Two inns in town and both are booked up," she sighed. "How far is the next hotel?"

"About ... eight clicks," Tom said, consulting the map the desk clerk had given them. "She did say something about a shuttle from the welcome center to the hotels … and something about making reservations there for B&Bs, whatever they are."

Kathryn appeared to be lost in thought, starting when Tom nudged her. "Let's get some coffee and something to eat, then figure out what to do," he suggested.

Kathryn brightened at the thought of real coffee. "You're on."

They ate pie as they studied the tourism brochures Tom found by the door. "B&B is Bed and Breakfast. It's like our private rentals. You stay in a room in a home, and they give you breakfast," she said.

"Not as anonymous as we'd hoped for, but it could work," he said, noticing that Kathryn was holding the literature a bit far away. "You know, Mom and Dad had that vision thing fixed," he said offhandedly.

"There's nothing wrong with my eyes," she snapped. "I'm not used to reading this kind of print, that's all."

"That's what Dad said, too," he quipped, ignoring her death glare.

They took a leisurely walk to the welcome center, stopping to peruse the occasional shop window. They were supposed to be tourists, after all.

"I could use a bathroom stop," Tom said when they reached the center. "Looks like they're in the back." She took his bag and moved to a quiet area so she could hail Voyager. She'd just finished the conversation when she heard Tom yell.

She ran around the corner to see him confronting two large men standing next to a large pickup truck. A third man, in Amish dress, was on the ground.

She palmed the small phaser in her jacket pocket. "What the hell is going on?" she barked as she strode toward the group.

"Get lost, lady," the larger of the two men ordered.

"I came out of the bathroom to find these two shoving him around," Tom said, nodding toward the Amish man, who had gotten to his feet.

The back door of the building slammed open, and a dark-haired woman in modern dress marched out, cell phone in hand.

"Get out of here before I call the sheriff," she growled. The men started to talk back, but she held up the phone and started to punch buttons. "_I_ can have you two arrested for trespassing," she warned. They got in the truck and peeled out.

"Caleb? Are you all right?" she called to the Amish man.

"I'm fine, thank you Mrs. Branham," he said as he bent over to pick up his hat. "My thanks to you and your wife, too," he told Tom.

"Why don't you all come inside for a moment?" the woman asked before she turned to Kathryn. "I'm Mary Branham, director of the Welcome Center. Thanks for helping Caleb."

She ushered them inside, and they noted that Caleb walked with a noticeable limp. "He all right?"  
Tom asked quietly.

She nodded. "The limp is from a farming accident," she whispered.

She was quite for a moment, waiting until a couple of staff members began to fuss over Caleb. "Normally, this is a very peaceful community," she continued. "Unfortunately, we do have people who don't like the Amish and their ways. For the most part, it's been bottles and bricks thrown at buggies. But since we've had an influx of of new families, the attacks have escalated, led by those men you saw. They enjoy picking on Caleb because of his limp."

"Why don't they just call for help?" Kathryn asked.

"They don't fight back; they don't press charges. That's not their way," she said. "If the sheriff can catch them at it, he can arrest them. But ..."

Tom looked up. "Say, is that the last shuttle to the hotels?" 

Mary looked at the clock. "It is. But I can call your hotel to send a car."

"Actually," Kathryn said, "we're looking for a hotel. Long story, but we're stranded here. My family's coming for us, but it's going to be at least a day."

"My goodness! Let me check to see if there are any B&B rooms available. I'll make sure you get there." She moved over to the desk and began punching buttons on the computer. "Oh," she said, looking over at Caleb.

"Caleb, this shows your mother's guest house is open tonight. Do you know if that's still the case?"

"There was a cancellation; she didn't have a new reservation when I left," he said. "If you don't mind the buggy, I'd be happy to take you and your husband, ma'am," he told Kathryn. "Do you have more bags?"

She was about to correct him, then thought better of it. "No just the two."

"I'll call and let her know you're coming," Mary said. She chuckled at Tom's raised eyebrow. "This is a progressive district in technology use. Phones are allowed if they aren't in the house. You'll also see more-modern appliances; most run on kerosene or propane."

xxx

"Looks like we're married, eh?" Tom teased as they walked to the buggy. Kathryn didn't answer for a moment, as she was switching a ring from her right hand to her left.

"Well, these are conservative folks, and we need the room: B'Elanna's estimating 24 hours on transporter repairs."

"Well then," he said as they reached the buggy. "After you, Mrs. Paris."


	3. Chapter 3

The farm was a pleasant one, especially in the first greening of spring. The horse pulled into the drive, and Caleb guided it past the large white farmhouse to a matching cottage in the rear.

An older woman, dressed in traditional Amish clothing, came out to greet them. "You're just in time," she said pleasantly. "I am Rebekah Yoder."

"I'm Tom Paris, and this is my wife, Kate," Tom said, and the woman nodded at Kathryn as she ushered them into the cottage, which was simply furnished, and very cozy.

"This is very nice," Kathryn said. "We're happy to have found you."

"Oh, actually, you're a blessing to us. Caleb works at the RV factory, and he's been off this week because there's no work. So how long will you be staying?

"Looks like tonight and tomorrow night," Kathryn said. "I believe Mrs. Branham mentioned $60 a night?"

"Well I appreciate you looking after Caleb, so it will be $60 for both nights," she said. "And I don't normally have my guests to supper, but you're welcome to join us."

"Well, thank you," Kathryn said, handing over the bills. "I honestly hadn't thought about dinner."

"I'll let you get settled; supper is at 6," she said as she bustled out.

Once the door shut, she looked at Tom. "By the way … Kate?"

He shrugged. "Guess it's because my father referred to you as 'Katie.' Besides, no harm in throwing people of track a bit."

She raised an eyebrow. "He calls me _that_? Must have gotten it from _my_ father." Tom just smiled: She hadn't told him _not_ to use that name.

xxx

One look at the dinner table, and Kathryn was back in her grandmother's house. Chicken and noodles paired with green beans, pickles, pickled beets, homemade bread and various condiments filled the oak table. A homemade pie sat on the sideboard.

"You didn't have to go to all this trouble," Tom exclaimed after he'd eaten two helpings of everything.

"My daughters and I canned all this last fall. All I did was take out a few extra jars. That's our convenience food," Rebekah said, her eyes twinkling.

She offered Kathryn a refill of coffee. "You know, Mary wasn't quite clear about how you ended up here."

Kathryn launched into a prepared explanation, mostly based on the truth. Tom effortlessly followed along, adding pertinent details. "My family's coming for us, but it will be a day or so," she finished.

"Their car is being repaired," Tom chimed in.

"So how are you getting home?" Caleb asked.

"We always planned on flying home," Kathryn said. "We just didn't expect this detour."

xxx

The lanterns put out just enough light for Tom to find his way to the porch. Kathryn was on the swing under a quilt, a mug of tea in her hands. She looked younger … certainly more relaxed.

She jumped a bit as the door opened. "Enjoying the quiet?" he asked.

"Very much," she said. "It's like sitting on my mother's front porch."

She lifted the edge of the quilt so he could join her. Once he was settled, her gaze returned to the darkness. "I wasn't able to go home before Voyager. The assignment came up quickly … we had a short window to prep. I didn't have time." She snorted. "I didn't have time to take my dog to the vet; Mark had to do it …"

This conversation could take a bad turn, he realized. "This isn't such a bad place to lay low," he said to change the subject. "I suppose, if we have to stay in this time, it might not be too bad, either."

Kathryn raised an eyebrow. "I doubt we'd fit into an Amish community ... though you might look good in a beard."

He grinned. "Well, you'll find out. My razor's back on Voyager," he said as she chuckled. "So … perhaps you'd prefer a nice country home." 

She chuckled. "Now _that_ I could do." She sighed. "You know, most of us could fit into this timeline. We could disguise Tuvok and B'Elanna and Kes. But what happens if they get sick? And what in god's name do we do with Chell and Neelix?"

She shook her head. "I've wondered if the best course might be to head back to the Delta Quadrant … we wouldn't interfere with Federation worlds there. We could look for something that would get us back to our time … or find a world to settle on."

She took a sip of her tea, then leaned her head back against the wall. "But if we had to stay here … how do we deal with what's coming?"

"Are you talking World War III? That's about 30 years off," Tom said softly. "If it happens."

She shrugged. "If history holds, most of us would be around to see that war. And I suspect the underlying causes are bubbling right now. Could we sit back and let 600 million people die … or perhaps die ourselves … when we have knowledge that might prevent the conflict, or at lessen its impact?"

"And if we did use that knowledge," he said softly, "what if we somehow prevent Zefram Cochrane from developing warp drive, or cause some event that prevents the creation of the Federation?"

"There you go," Kathryn said. "I have no wish to play God again. I'd prefer to get back to our time."

She stretched. "When's breakfast? Six? We'd probably should get some sleep," she said as she got up and gathered the quilt.

Tom gulped. Sleeping could be awkward. They hadn't discussed the one-bed issue.

"I could sleep out on the porch. Or on the floor," he offered.

"That's a hardwood floor. You'd break your back," she admonished as they went inside. "And how's it going to look if my _husband_ is sleeping outside in the cold? She sighed. "Look, I know this is awkward. But I have shared a bed before. I'm assuming you have, too?"

He could feel the blush creeping up his cheeks. "Ah, well, yes."

"Well, there we go. Just don't kick me and we'll get along," she said. "I'd like the bathroom right now, if you don't mind."

"Sure," he said, then chuckled. "Never thought I'd be invited into the Captain's bed."

"Oh, hush!" she commanded. "And by the way, I don't know your sleeping habits, but I'd appreciate it if you'd wear _something_ to bed."


	4. Chapter 4

She awoke the next morning to find her body curled against Tom's, his hand lightly resting on her hip. She should move … she should … but she couldn't. She remained still for a few extra minutes, just enjoying his warmth, before she reluctantly slipped out of bed.

xxx

"I'm going into town," Caleb announced at breakfast. "If you'd like to come along, there's a couple of markets that the tourists visit. You might enjoy poking around."

And actually, they did enjoy themselves. She and Tom shared the same quirky sense of humor, and they joked … a lot … as they walked through the markets.

"This place is certainly a history lesson," Kathryn remarked. "I've only seen images of clothespins."

"I'm still disturbed by the whole hog's head we saw in the stasis … I mean freezer," Tom remarked, then stopped at a shelf. "Are we using ship's money or is it coming out of our credits?"

"Ship's money," she replied. All Federation ships had access to a "bank" that allowed them to replicate currency or transfer payments if needed.

"Well, you can take it out of my credits, but I'd really like a couple of these," he said, holding up a jar of Amish peanut butter.

"Why am I not surprised?" she quipped. Tom had fallen in love with the concoction, which used marshmallow crème, among other things. He'd slathered it on his toast this morning. "Don't worry about it; it's on the ship."

"You should get something, too … like that," he said, pointing to a display of bagged coffee beans.

The look on her face was almost heartbreaking. "No, I couldn't."

"Oh, why not?" he murmured in her ear. "If I can have peanut butter, you certainly can have a cup of real coffee. No one's going to begrudge you an occasional treat, you know."

"I suppose I could replicate a grinder, and maybe a French press to make it in," she murmured back.

"Sold, then," he said, tossing a half-dozen bags of beans in the cart. A few aisles later, he looked over at her. "If it makes you feel better, we could bring something back for everyone … a treat?"

She considered. "Hm, you're right," she said, landing a soft punch to his shoulder. "But we can do a lot better than a treat. Let me think on this."

They came out to find Caleb waiting for them. "Hang on … be right back," Tom said as he ran back into the store. She and Caleb loaded the buggy and waited … and waited until Tom came running out with a package.

"Sorry, took longer than I thought," he said. She gave him a dirty look. "What were you doing in there?"

"I had to get something; show you later," he said nervously.

xxx

Back in the room, she crossed her arms. "Look, I don't want to pry, but what was that all about?"

He looked embarrassed. "I bought you something," he said, handing her the paper bag.

"Bought _me_ something?" She was incredulous.

He shrugged. "I'll figure out payment, but I wanted you to have this."

She opened the bag and pulled out the box. "A French press," she breathed. Then, just as suddenly, tears sprang to her eyes. Tom looked worried. "If it's not OK ..."

"It's good," she said as she put down the box and pulled him into a hug. "It's perfect. In fact, it's the nicest thing anyone has done for me in ages."

Tom was a bit overwhelmed by her admission, and he hugged her back, hard. "You deserve something nice," he whispered,

The embrace was interrupted by a "beep" from her jacket pocket. She pulled out her communicator and tapped it. "Janeway here ..."


	5. Chapter 5

They were invited to dinner again; fried venison steaks, with mashed potatoes and peas.

"So what kind of work do you do?" Rebekah asked.

"I'm a pilot," Tom said. "Kate has to travel for her job, so I fly her around a lot."

Rebekah and Caleb looked at her expectantly, and she quickly came up with a response. "I work for a company out of San Francisco. It's involved in deep space research."

"We do work for NASA's Jet Propulsion Laboratory," Tom quickly added.

"What do you do there?" Caleb asked her.

"Read a lot of reports. Analyze a lot of data," she said, quietly offering thanks for Tom's knowledge of the period. "I have a degree in physics." No need to mention that it was a doctorate, and certainly not where she earned it.

"Do you travel to observatories?" Caleb asked.

"Yes," Tom said. "In fact, we just spent some time at Griffin Observatory in Los Angeles."

xxx

After dinner, Rebekah cleared her throat. "Will you be staying tomorrow night?"

"No," Kathryn said. "I talked to my family. They'll pick us up around 10 tomorrow morning. I was wondering if Caleb could drop us at the market so we could meet them there? I'd like them to see it."

"I'm sorry, I can't," Caleb replied. "The factory has work, so I'm going in tomorrow morning. We start at 5."

"Wow, that's early," Tom whistled.

"And I'm leaving after breakfast. I have a doctor's appointment in Davenport," Rebekah said. "I'm sorry I won't be able to meet your family. But they can pick you up here?"

"Absolutely," Kathryn said, breathing a sigh of relief.

xxx

She insisted on helping Rebekah with the dishes; seemed like the least she could do.

"You're not what I expected," Kathryn admitted. Actually, Rebekah reminded her of her grandmother.

Rebekah smiled. "Well, I think half my guests expect us to try to convert them. But we prefer to let out faith shine through our actions. Actually, I enjoy talking to our English guests. I don't want to join that world, but I'm interested in hearing about peoples' lives. Yours sounds like an interesting one."

"It certainly has been," she admitted. "Is Caleb your only child?" she asked to change the subject.

Rebekah laughed. "Oh, heavens no; he's my youngest. Benjamin and I had nine children, though we lost two at birth. Most of my children are nearby, though my oldest son and his family recently moved to a new district in Michigan. My children and grandchildren come by often to help with things … like canning.

"Caleb has a special friend … Mary's in Illinois right now. Her grandmother is very ill, and she's helping out." She sighed. "They'd like to marry, but he doesn't feel settled enough financially."

Kathryn could only nod. "You and Tom haven't been married long," she noted.

"No, we have not." That was certainly true on some level.

"Did you know each other for long?"

"Actually, we've known each other for years. I worked for his father when I got out of school. We lost track … I was engaged to someone else. During that time, Tom ran into some trouble." she paused. "I helped him get his a job couple of years ago. Hadn't considered him as a husband … but things happened rather quickly."

"Well, I imagine ending an engagement was difficult," Rebekah began.

"He died," Kathryn interjected, wondering why that fell out of her mouth. "We were flying with my father. We went down. I survived, they didn't."

"Oh, my, both of them," Rebekah said softly, laying a hand on her forearm. "I am so sorry. That is the kind of thing that leaves you questioning things."

"Do you question your faith?" Kathryn asked, surprised.

She considered. "My faith … no. But when I lost my children, when Benjamin died, I asked God why he allowed these things to happen. I try to remember what my mother told me: God's ways are not our ways, and he will guide us through our trials, no matter how painful they are."

She smiled softly. "One might say he guided you to Tom." She chuckled. "He reminds me a lot of my Benjamin. I bet he makes you laugh."

"Oh, that he does," Kathryn agreed.

"And I've seen how he looks at you," she continued. "He loves you very much."

Kathryn just managed not to gasp at that news, and she quickly tried to come up with a reply. Fortunately, she was saved when Caleb called for his mother. She finished up and headed back to the cottage, deep in thought. She barely noticed that Tom and Rebekah were quietly talking in the hallway.

That night, she lay awake, just watching Tom sleep. They were tied in so many ways: similar upbringings, families … and had the Doctor been able to convert three small amphibians, their ties would be very deep, indeed.

Of all the people on the ship, she was the most comfortable with Tom; she certainly couldn't see sharing a bed with anyone else. But she'd long ago tamped any other feelings into a warm friendship … or thought she had. Could it be she was just ignoring what was right in front of her all along?

She leaned over, and very gently, so not to wake him, kissed the top of Tom's head.


	6. Chapter 6

Caleb had left for work, so it was just them and Rebekah for a simple breakfast. They took charge of cleanup so Rebekah could get ready: her ride was coming soon.

She hugged them both before she left. "Come back and see us," Rebekah said. "You are always welcome."

They retired to the cottage to pack. Finally, Voyager hailed them: the transporter was ready. Kathryn glanced out the window. "Damn … left those mugs out on the porch … Tom, can you take care of transporting our things while I get them?"

She'd just stepped out when she heard a sound. It took her a few seconds to place it … a truck … near the barn. Mugs forgotten, she stepped in the door.

"Grab your phaser," she told Tom. "Someone's at the barn."

They slipped toward the building, with Tom moving to the right, near a small line of trees. Kathryn's heart sank when she saw the truck. It belonged to the men who attacked Caleb.

The men didn't notice her approach. They were pulling fuel cans from the truck bed. When one of them opened a can, and stuck a rag in the opening, Kathryn realized just what they intended to do.

She pulled her phaser and stepped out, staying near a water tank for cover. "What's going on, boys? Planning a barn-burning?" she growled.

They spun to look at her. "God damn ..." one of them said, then looked at her and laughed. "Trying to scare us with a toy gun, lady?" The other reached into the truck bed …. he didn't get far: Tom's shot caught him in the back. The other man tried to get in the truck: Kathryn's shot propelled him half into the driver's seat.

She and Tom did a quick check of the barn and the perimeter, just in case these two had a friend. Finding nothing, they walked to the truck.

"He was going for a shotgun," Tom remarked as he looked in the truck bed. "What do you want to do with them?"

"Can't call the authorities," she sighed. "We'd have to explain ourselves. Can't leave them here, either." She smiled. "But maybe we can teach them a lesson."

They pulled the two into a clear spot, then stacked the fuel cans and shotguns next to them. Kathryn gingerly pulled out several cans and bottles of alcohol from the truck, which she dumped next to the men. Finished, she tapped her communicator, calling for Harry.

"Can you lock onto a couple of humans … not us … plus various things in a pile next to them?"

A pause. "I have them Captain," he answered, obviously puzzled.

Chakotay broke in. "Captain?"

"Just trying to get a couple of bullies away from the folks who befriended us. Harry, find a quiet street in … oh, Downtown Chicago … and transport these two and their junk there. And be careful … this involves weapons and flammable material."

"Aye, Captain," came the reply. A few moments later, the two shimmered and disappeared.

"Well done," Tom said. "What about the truck?"

"Think you can drive it?"

"Probably, but why?" Kathryn just grinned. "I was going to have Voyager transport us to the market to get supplies. But this would be less risky."

She called Voyager again and ordered a substantial amount of cash, then asked, "Is Lieutenant Alaya on duty today?"

"Yes, Captain," Tuvok sounded as puzzled as Harry.

"I'm going to need some help. Have him change into civilian clothes. Nothing Starfleet … a simple sweatshirt and pants will do. I'll send the coordinates shortly."

She gave Tom some time to get the hang of driving before she called for Mike. He appeared, looking a bit surprised at his surroundings.

"Welcome to the 20th century, Mike," Tom said as Mike got in the truck, and they moved on.

She tapped the communicator again. "Harry, keep a transporter lock on this vehicle. If I give the word, transport it … and us … into a cargo bay."

Chakotay broke in again. "Captain, what's going on?"

"We, ah, _borrowed_ a truck to get some supplies. The owners aren't in a position to care, but the authorities might. If we get stopped, we'll need to disappear in a hurry. Janeway out."

Mike raised an eyebrow, then grinned. "Captain, I don't know what's going on. But I'm really glad you brought me along," he said, bringing a hearty laugh from Kathryn and Tom.

xxx 

The Doctor's sudden appearance in the Mess Hall already had the room abuzz; the appearance of several bushels of vegetables created a sensation.

The Doctor harrumphed as he scanned them. "Nothing unusual here: carrots, potatoes, cabbages."

Sam Wildman and Joe Carey came over for a look. "Those are Earth vegetables," Sam breathed. "_Fresh_ Earth vegetables. There's grapes and bananas, too!"

"Holy God, you're right! Joe turned to the crowd. "It's real food from Earth! No replicators needed," he said as his crewmates cheered.

Back on the bridge, Harry was monitoring the arrival of the foodstuffs. At one point, he began to laugh. "What's so funny, Ensign?" Chakotay asked.

"Well, sir, the Captain commed Neelix to say she was sending up dinner. Apparently 35 frozen pizzas just appeared … in various sizes and toppings!"

Harry looked at B'Elanna, who was manning the Engineering console. "Paris," they said in unison.

xxx

Shopping done, Kathryn bought them lunch before they headed out. They stopped on a quiet road to send Mike back to the ship. "I saw an abandoned farmhouse the next road over; that would be a good place to get rid of this truck," Tom suggested as they moved on.

They'd only gone a quarter-mile or so when they saw the flashing lights in the mirror: a sheriff's car.

"Oh, shit," Tom breathed. Kathryn tapped her com badge. "Harry, I need that beam out … now!"

The deputy hit the brakes as he watched the truck shimmer in a ray of light, then disappear. He grabbed his radio, and was about to key in, then stopped. "Just what would I tell them?" he asked out loud.


	7. Chapter 7

Kathryn let out her breath as they finished materializing in the cargo bay.

"Bridge to Janeway. Captain, are you two all right?" Chakotay sounded a bit anxious.

"We're fine … and my thanks to Harry. We'll be along in a few minutes. Janeway out."

She and Tom sat quietly in the truck for a moment, then looked at each other and burst out laughing. They could barely breathe, couldn't speak … all they could do was laugh and hold on to each other as the tears poured down their cheeks.

"Oh, that was fun!" Kathryn exclaimed when she could catch her breath.

"I'm sorry I didn't see the look on the deputy's face," Tom said as he wiped tears from his chin. "You … you have quite the rebel streak, don't you?"

She laid a hand on his cheek. "Funny, but _you're_ the one who brings it out."

In the next moment, his mouth was on hers, and she was kissing him back for all she was worth. Somehow, she realized, he'd pushed her down on the bench seat and was on top of her. Not that she cared: his hands were under her shirt; she'd wrapped a leg around him; and both were oblivious to the possibility that someone could walk in on them.

What did rouse them was Chakotay's hail. "Captain, we need you up here. Starling's on the move."

Cursing, they bailed out of the truck. But before the bay door opened, Tom grabbed her arm.

"Later?" he asked, and she could see the tenderness and hope in his eyes.

"Oh, yes," she whispered.

And when it was over, and Starling's ship was destroyed, she stood and seethed as Braxton sent them back to their time, but refused to send them to the Alpha Quadrant.

"God's ways are not our ways," she muttered as Tom gave her a sidelong glance. "Something Mrs. Yoder said," she explained. "Apparently it applies to the Temporal Integrity Commission, too."

XXX

"Come" she called absently as she peered at the vid screen.

"Working late again?" Chakotay asked as he ambled into the Ready Room.

"Trying to explain why I bent the Prime Directive by sending those bullies to Chicago."

"Well, you may have saved some lives. We used that type of bomb in the Maquis … it spews a lot of flaming debris … it might have spread to other homesteads. And apparently your actions didn't adversely affect the timeline."

He grinned at her. "Besides, you certainly gave the crew some entertainment. They were quite excited by that food haul. And they've been trooping through Cargo Bay 2 to see that truck."

"Nothing like a little history lesson," she began, only to be interrupted by a hail from Neelix.

"Captain, I'm about to close the galley, but I still can cook a pizza for you. I'd hate for you to not get one. Though I hope you like sausage, mushrooms and peppers."

"Go ahead, Neelix. I'm on my way down," she said as she and Chakotay got up.

xxx

The Mess Hall was deserted, except for Tom, who was sitting at a table, reading a PADD.

"Hello, there," she said affectionately, taking a seat across from him. "What are you reading?"

"Just doing some research," he said noncommittally.

"I hear the truck is quite the attraction." He chuckled. "Harry, B'Elanna and Joe Carey persuaded me to start it for them. B'Elanna scanned the hell out of it. We actually had enough clearance that I could drive it in a circle." He cocked his head. "So what _are_ you going to do with it?"

"Well, I was going to send it to Chicago, but guess I'll have engineering dismantle it for salvage and recycling."

"Can I have the seats?" "I suppose," she answered, "but why?"

"Oh, I have something in mind for them," he said, giving her a wicked grin.

She sat back and returned his grin. "By the way," she said, wagging a finger at him, "I hear you're claiming that I challenged you to grow that beard. I certainly don't remember it that way."

He shrugged. "Well, you haven't told me whether you think I look good in it."

"Hmm," she considered as she rested her chin on her hand. "As a matter of fact, you _do_ look good in it … it'll be even better when it grows out." She had to tamp down the urge to run her fingernails through it.

He smiled and raised his eyebrow in warning: The pizza had arrived.

After Neelix left, she looked down at the pie. "I can't eat all this. Want to help?"

"Sure, what do you want to drink?"

She gave him that wicked grin again. "Tell you what … let's take this back to my quarters. I put some of that now-ancient beer in the chiller. It will go nicely with our vintage pizza."


	8. Chapter 8

A Sunday morning, and they were lounging in his quarters, enjoying bagels and coffee cake that he'd brought from the Mess Hall. The night before, he'd shown her just what he had in mind for the bench seats he'd pulled from the truck.

"Here you go," Tom said as he handed her a PADD. "Thought you might like to know how our friends in Iowa fared after we left.

She shook her head as she began to read. "Mrs. Yoder died in 2006 … still too young, even by 20th century standards."

The next bit of news brought a smile. "Aw… Caleb did get married. He and his wife had six children." She frowned again. "Oh, one of their children didn't accept their faith."

"Uh, oh, I know that look," Tom broke in. "I doubt that our being there had anything to do with that. I mean, statistically, these things are bound to happen. Anyway, keep reading."

"Ah, one of his grandsons was a noted scientific researcher … came up with a cure for a plague on the African continent in the late 2000s." She smiled then. "I suppose it all worked out for the best."

He just smiled and handed her another PADD. "You'll get a kick out of this one."

She raised an eyebrow at the title, but began to read:

"News of the Weird ...

"Two Iowa men facing felony weapons charges told police that they were dumped in Chicago by an alien who shot them with a toy ray gun.

"The men were found unconscious Tuesday morning near downtown Chicago, along with two shotguns, several empty alcohol containers, and two gasoline bombs.

"According to investigators, the men said they were looking for firewood in Kolona, Iowa, when the alien, disguised as a human woman with red hair, appeared in front of them. She was holding a toy ray gun, they said, and when they asked what she wanted, she shot them. They told police they didn't know how they ended up in Chicago, 250 miles away.

"The two confirmed that they owned the shotguns and the alcohol containers, police said, but claimed that the alien planted the gasoline bombs.

"What liars," she growled.

"Police said the men also claimed that the red-haired alien …" She couldn't help it; she dropped the PADD and laughed. Tom, grinning, picked it up and continued reading.

"… the men also claimed that the red-haired alien stole their truck, a black 1986 Ford F-150, which has not been found."

"Police said the two were taken to Cook County Hospital for psychiatric observation before being transferred to the Cook County Jail."

He gave Kathryn a nudge. "Boy, you have to watch those red-haired aliens," That sent her into another fit of laughter.

"Well," she said when she could finally talk, "I suppose to many folks, I _am_ a red-haired alien. And I am guilty of stealing their truck."

"Which B'Elanna says gave us a nice pile of usable metals."

"By the way, I like how you aren't even implicated in this. It's all on me," she chuckled.

"Too bad I didn't have my Captain Proton suit on," he chuckled. "The story would have been even better."

"If the police asked questions in Kolona, they could confirm that we were there. But I'm guessing no one bought the ray gun story. I suspect these two spent some time in jail."

"Couldn't find any records of that, but it couldn't have happened to two nicer guys," Tom said.


	9. Epilogue

Kathryn finished tucking the sheets around the bed, then straightened quickly at a kick: the baby was awake … and active.

It was good to be home. The debriefings were over, the crew had scattered. She and Tom were on extended leave, and not sure what path to take after that. Her mother had offered a partial solution: Maintaining the farm had become too much. If she built an extra room to create a suite for herself, would they move into the main house?

It hadn't taken them long to decide: Whatever happened in their careers, their home would be in Indiana.

She looked around for the last piece of bed clothing … not finding it, she walked to the landing and peered over. Tom was sorting through the various containers, with "help" from their daughter, Becca.

"Hey, hon," she called softly, so as not to wake little Kiran in the next room. "Do you remember where we packed the quilt?"

Her mother delivered it a few minutes later, followed by Becca, who was now wearing a too-big hat over her reddish-blonde curls.

"She just asked me where the hydroponics bay was," Gretchen chuckled. "Tom's been trying to explain that we don't have the kind of holodeck she's used to."

"Definitely a starship child," she joked as she took the quilt. "She's decided that life on-world is barely civilized. Though I expect that her daddy will build them a holosuite."

Gretchen just smiled and nodded at the quilt. "If that doesn't work, we have plenty others in the linen closet."

"No, thanks, this one is special. It was a gift."

xxx

_Four years earlier:_

_She'd just keyed in the code to their officially shared quarters when Tom swept her up and carried her inside._

"_Carrying me over the threshold? How sweet," she said, giving him a big kiss._

_They had married two days earlier, on a bluff overlooking the ocean on Caldia Prime. The Prime Minister had kindly agreed to conduct the ceremony after the trade negotiations ended. _

_The Federation would accept the__ir__ marriage certificate, so there was no need to have a ceremony on Voyager. Just as well: Her relationship with Chakotay right now was strained enough … asking him to perform the ceremony, or having Tuvok do it, might make things worse. _

_And waiting wasn't an option: They were both traditional enough to want to be married before the baby arrived._

_Tom put her down on the bed, but didn't follow. Rather, he rummaged through the closet and pulled out a large parcel._

"_Your wedding present," he said, gently laying the parcel next to her._

"_How'd you manage to sneak this past me?" she asked as she opened it eagerly. She pulled it from the paper and stopped. _

_It was a quilt in the wedding ring pattern. The colors looked familiar, then it hit her: It was the quilt that had been on the bed in the Yoders' guest house. In 1996._

"_Did you replicate this? He shook his head._

"_I persuaded Mrs. Yoder to sell it to me. It wasn't a family heirloom, just one she'd made for the cottage."_

_She was puzzled; he'd never shown any interest in quilts. "What made you think of this?"_

"_I knew you liked it. I told Mrs. Yoder that we'd married quickly, and I hadn't given you a proper wedding present."_

_She chuckled. "I suppose you are my first … and second husband, aren't you?" she teased. "Seriously, though, you've been holding this for nearly a year?"_

_He looked a bit embarrassed. "I was saving it for something special … when things changed for us … I decided to make it a real wedding present."_

_She couldn't hold back the tears. "What did I do to deserve you?" she murmured as she threw her arms around him._

xxx

Gretchen lent a hand to spread the quilt, but stopped when she saw the embroidered date.

"1994? Is this replicated?"

"Of course," Kathryn said off-handedly.

_Damn, she hated to lie to her mother. But the story behind the quilt was classified. Mom would respect that, but there was always the chance that Owen — or worse, some snoop in Temporal Affairs — would find out they'd brought back souvenirs. Fortunately, the French press hadn't changed much over 400 years._

"That's a damn good replication … right down to the tiny imperfections," Gretchen continued. "Too bad it isn't original. It would belong in a museum."

Kathryn just smiled. "Maybe, but I think it's right where it belongs."


End file.
